


There May Be Something There (That Wasn't There Before) [COMPLETED]

by azulaahai



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, High School AU, Jon and the Starks Are Not Related, Modern AU, Mutual Pining, as always, joffrey is a grade a asshole, ned is dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-01-22 14:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12484076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azulaahai/pseuds/azulaahai
Summary: No one seems to quite understand why Sansa is with Joffrey. Least of all her brother's best friend and study buddy extraordinaire, Jon Snow.





	1. Prologue: The Date

**Author's Note:**

> Really silly, fluffy Jonsa high school AU haha, with other lowkey/mentioned ships thrown in for good measure. My knowledge of the American school system is movie-based lmao so please forgive any mistakes. Title, obviously, from BatB. Planning for 3 chapters!

Sansa had anticipated her family hating her first boyfriend - had thought it part of the fun. Just how _much_ they would hate him, however, came as a surprise.

"Joffrey?" Margaery exclaimed, a more than a little dramatic look on her face. "Sansa, you're not - not ... Joffrey _Baratheon_?"  
"Yeah, him. He asked me out today at lunch", Sansa said, hating herself for blushing. She wished Margaery would keep her voice down - they were alone in the Stark kitchen for now, but in a second the room could be flooded with siblings demanding to know every last detail about Sansa's love life. Moments alone with Margaery were rare since she had started dating Robb, her time in the Stark house being claimed by two people now instead of one. 

 

It was all going surprisingly well, Sansa's best friend and brother dating, Margaery's social graciousness making everything less awkward. Apart from one forgot-to-knock-incident that all three of them had silently agreed never to speak of again, Sansa couldn't be happier for them. 

 However, she was only human, and could not help but occasionally miss the simpler times when she could have these sort of talks with Margaery whenever she liked. That was all Sansa wanted now, really, some of that famous Margaery encouragement and giddyness.  


It seemed, however, she would not get it today.

"Sansa, no!" Marg exclaimed. (Sansa really thought she was overreacting: she truly did not have to look _that_ horrified, did she?)

"Don't you mean _oh, Sansa, congratulations! I'm so happy for you?_ " Sansa tried, willing her tone to be light-hearted. In reality, she was disappointed - could Margaery not fake excitement even for just a moment? Her friend looked tortured.  
"Sansa, I - not him. Literally, anyone but Joffrey fucking Baratheon ..."

 

"What's this about Baratheon?" Robb, who just entered the room, demanded to know with a frown. Sansa nearly spit out the sip of tea she had just taken. Oh, dear gods. It seemed her time of privacy was coming to an end.

"Joffrey _Baratheon_? Satan's spawn?" Arya came in right after her brother, joining the party with her usual ability to smell when humiliation was about to be served. Sansa shot Margaery a death glare that would have sent a weaker woman running. Marg only mouthed "sorry" while trying - and ultimately failing - to surpress a smile at Robb's half-confused, half-already angry face.

"Marg?" Robb urged when no one answered his question. Margaery hesitated.

"Marg?" Arya said, looking at the older girl with pleading eyes. Margaery had always had a soft spot for Arya.

"Sans has a date tonight", she eventually yielded to Arya in a somewhat ashamed, but still conspiratorial tone. Sansa fought an inner battle with the side of her that wanted to rise and scream 'traitor' at Margaery and stomp out like baby Rickon during one of his fits.

"I'm sorry!" Margaery turned to Sansa again. "They were going to find out anyway, weren't they? If he's picking you up-"

"Who's picking who up?" The question was from Bran and asked with his normal curiosity, as he rolled his wheelchair into the kitchen, nearly bumping into Arya who had turned her attention to the fridge for a few seconds.

"No one is picking anyone up!" Sansa made a last, desperate attempt, but it seemed her dignity was beyond saving.

"Sansa has a date", Arya said, mouth full of something Sansa did not care to identify.

"I do not", Sansa tried again, but her voice was low now, defeated. 

"Sansa", Robb said. She could have sworn his face had paled - really, truly paled. (Why did everyone around her have to be so mindblowingly dramatic?) "Tell me I got this wrong."

"You got this wrong."

"Please, Sansa, tell me you are not going on a date with Joffrey 'Asshole' Baratheon?"

"This family truly needs to learn to mind their own business."

"If you go on this date, we will _disown_ you from the family", Arya shot in, still chewing. "Problem solved."

"Sansa", Robb said, apparently failing to find words. "Please ... Baratheon? Really?"

 

The bad blood between Robb and Joffrey Baratheon had begun early. While their father still had lived, all the Stark kids had been forced to visit their dad's boss and friend, Robert Baratheon's, house every so often, with his young, bitter wife and three pretty kids. The Starks had of course been expected to play with the Baratheon children, and had done so happily with Tommen and Myrcella. 

Joffrey, however, had been a different matter. If he was not bossy and rude, ruining every game they played, he was mean to his siblings or the younger Starks, even to Sansa at times. He never dared cross Robb, who was a fierce defender of his siblings and much bigger than Joff.  
Joffrey had been in the same grade as Sansa for two years now, since the year father died and the Baratheons moved to town, and to Sansa his childhood misdeeds were long since forgiven and forgotten-

  
To Robb they clearly were not.

"Gods, Robb, leave it be", Bran muttered, still waiting in line behind Arya for the fridge.

"Thank you, Bran", Sansa said. "Butt out, Robb. Besides, I don't understand what the big fuss is! If Arya can be with Gendry all day every day-"

"Don't be jealous", Arya grinned as she stepped aside to let Bran have access to the fridge.

"- and Bran can have Meera over whenever he wants -"

"Hey!" Bran protested. "I was on your side, Judas!"

"- then I don't understand why me going on a single date can be so upsetting?"

"Sansa", Robb said again. She was going to kill him if he kept that whole in-disbelief-of-my-sister's-stupidity act going for a second longer. "It's not that you're dating."

"It's who you're dating", Margaery nodded. Sansa decided she needed new friends.

"This is an intervention", Bran added.

"I thought you were on my side?" Sansa snorted.

"You turn on me, I turn on you."

Sansa arose then, unable to take it any longer. "Enough now, all of you! Gods, you're such assholes."

"Sorry, darling", Marg said softly, over the sounds of Robb muttering something about challenging Joff-Joff (Joff-Joff? Really? Robb had overheard Joff's mom calling him that _once_ , when they were, like, ten) to a duel, and Bran arguing with Arya for eating the last of the chocolate. 

Sansa left the kitchen then, Arya's final remark about how they could let the dogs loose on Joffrey accompanying Sansa to her room.

***

Her mother was slightly more supportive, although that was not that difficult a feat to accomplish, considering how low her siblings had set the bar. Sansa had made her whole "I-know-it's-a-school-night-but-can-I-please-go-on-a-date" speech, and her mother had smiled and given her approval after her usual questions of who, what and where. When she heard who the eligible bachelor in question was, she made a face Sansa could not quite read before smiling again and saying "whatever makes you happy, sweetheart".  
Sansa returned the smile, and started going back to her room before her mother could change her mind.

Margaery helped her do her hair in the end - probably out of guilt for exposing Sansa earlier, though Sansa was certainly not complaining. The braid Marg did was show-stopping, and they picked out a blue blouse that Margaery claimed really brought out her eyes. Excitement, completely absent after the fiasco with her siblings earlier, slowly began rebuilding in Sansa's stomach.

Margaery had to leave at six - her grandmother Olenna was visiting, and her father insisted she be home for dinner - and she left Sansa with first a "good luck" and a wink, then, after a moment of hesitation:  
"Sans?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Don't take any shit from him, okay? I mean, I know you like him, and I don't really know him and all, but just, take care of yourself, can you promise me that?"  
"Of course, Marg."  
"Good, darling. I have to go now. Wish me luck with the family tensions."

***

When there was a knock at Sansa's door at quarter past six, she startled. Joffrey was not supposed to be here until seven, and she feared it was one of her siblings that had come to talk her out of going in some way or another. But when she yelled "come in" - a little bit louder and angrier than necessary, if she was being completely honest - and the door opened, none other than Jon Snow was standing at the threshold.

Jon Snow, who had been around for as long as Sansa could remember, her brother's best friend, quieter than Robb and nicer than Theon. Jon Snow, who had helped all of them through that awful time after their father had died. Jon Snow, who taught Arya how to ride a bike. Jon Snow, who had been the first to make Bran laugh again after his accident.

(Jon Snow, who had grown up to be quite handsome. Jon Snow, with dark curls that she imagined had to be soft as ... as ...)

Without Sansa's approval, her cheeks went red. That seemed to happen when she met Jon unexpectedly, these days. Sansa wasn't quite sure why (and she had no particular interest in finding out.) Jon had frozen on her threshold now, almost stunned, looking her over from head to toe. Sansa felt she had to break the awkward silence.

"Oh." Hm. That did not necessarily make it less awkward. "Ehrm, hi, Jon." Better. "What are you doing here?"  
"What?" he said, swallowing, looking ~~adorable~~ confused. "Oh! I just ..." He held up his right hand so Sansa could see the math book he was holding. "It's thursday, right? Study night, remember?"

She hadn't remembered, no. God. Her mother was going to murder her.

These study nights had started when her math teacher, mrs Mordane, had told Sansa she was failing the class. Her mother had gone ballistic. Sansa, wanting to save her math grade and with it her social life that her mother threatened to demolish, had become desperate. And like a knight in shining armour, Jon had offered to help. 

 It wasn't charity, Sansa time and time again reminded herself. Their mother payed Jon a small sum for helping Sansa with math once a week, a fact that did little to ease Sansa's humiliation. Jon had just never been as close with Sansa as he had the other Starks, and she thought studying with him would be a necessary evil, just a way to show her mother she truly was trying. 

But the studying sessions were not as awkward as Sansa had anticipated. Jon was patient, and good at explaining, and never once made her feel stupid over a question. There was just something about him - a calm, a comfort - that made it so easy and nice to be around him, and the silence that she at first thought would be uncomfortable was just peaceful.

He was a good tutor, too - her math results had improved significantly - and when she got something right or did better on a test than, let's face it, they both had expected, he was almost as excited as her, giving her a proud smile and an approving nod.

Although she would never tell a soul, Sansa had more than once caught herself even looking forward to their quiet thursday nights.

But this wasn't going to be one of them.

"Shit. Jon, I - I'm so sorry, I actually don't - I mean, I can't tonight."

"Oh. That's fine, I - I'll just find Robb. Why, what are you doing?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe, surprising Sansa. Jon usually wasn't one for small talk.

"I'm just - I'm going on a date." He didn't seem too happy at that. Perhaps he knew more than he claimed - perhaps one of her siblings had already told him who, exactly, she was going on a date with. Jon, having been around Robb so much, couldn't really have that great of an opinion of Joffrey.

"Oh. That's great", he said in a monotone voice. She tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. Jon quickly looked away from her, then, letting his gaze wander around her room instead. Was he mad at her?

"Sorry I didn't text you, I just -"

"No, Sansa, really. It's fine." Finally, he smiled at her. "Have fun on your date." He turned to leave with an awkward little wave that was so very him.

"Thank you!" she called out after him. Why did she feel so tense, now? 

An impulse had her following him after a few seconds, going to stand in the doorway.

"Jon?" He was halfway down the stairs already, but stopped and turned when she called his name.

"Yeah?"

"I'll -" She paused, feeling that blush return with full force. What had she wanted, anyway? God, she was being silly. Joffrey was going to be here in an hour. She should be ... preparing. Or something. Jon looked at her, curiosity in his eyes but waiting patiently. ~~Joffrey always looked at her as if he was planning her murder.~~ "Just ... I'll see you next thursday, right?"

"Of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world." He smiled at her. ~~Sansa wished he wasn't joking.~~


	2. Logarithms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the response! I decided I'm going to need four chapters to finish this, hah. Here's the second one - enjoy!

Jon would be there in exactly ten minutes - he was never late.

Sansa wandered aimlessly around her room, tidying up where no tidying was needed, and internally scolding herself for feeling strangely nervous.

Sansa and Jon had not had a study session for three weeks now. It hadn't truly been a concious choice on Sansa's part - she found herself missing the calm study bubble that Jon brought with him when he came over, ~~and Jon himself~~ \- but she had spent almost all her waking time with Joffrey. 

It had been surprisingly easy and gone quickly, being swept up in Joffrey's life. Sansa met him every day - in school, of course, but in addition she spent nearly every afternoon at the Baratheons'. Joffrey's father didn't seem to care one bit (about anything, really), and his mother, while maintaining her cool exterior, had seemingly taken to Sansa a bit. 

Sansa's own mother had yet to mention Sansa being away so much, but Sansa knew it bothered her. And Sansa's school results had plummeted after she had begun seeing Joffrey, mr Luwin giving her a disappointed shake of his head when returning her latest, terrible test in history, which was normally one of her strongest subjects.

But it was her math studies that had suffered the most. A catastrophe was just around the corner if she did not act soon. Sansa was afraid to even think about it, having cancelled three study sessions with Jon in a row.

Jon had been nice enough not to mention it to Catelyn, but Sansa knew it was only a matter of time before it all came crashing down. So, out of fear of being kicked out of school as much as a desire to see Jon again and have something feel ... normal, safe, comforting in this whirlwind new world in which she was not just Sansa, but one half of "Sansa & Joffrey", she had decided this thursday she wouldn't send that already too familiar "can't-tonight" text to Jon, but meet up with him and study math like any responsible person would.

Joffrey hadn't liked it. It hadn't been long until Sansa realised that Joffrey wasn't upset about her not being with him as much as he was upset about her spending time with Jon, of all people. As a relation of the famous Daenerys Targaryen, Jon was quite well-known at school, and it seemed to bother Joffrey that Sansa would see him. Not even to save her endangered math grade would he accept it. 

Joffrey had been calling and texting since she rode with Robb home from school this afternoon, and still, nearly three hours later, Sansa's nervous pacing around her room was frequently interrupted by her phone vibrating from one of Joffrey's texts. She didn't read them anymore, had stopped when the tone had turned hostile. A feeling peculiarly like fear spurred in Sansa's stomach when she thought about just how angry Joffrey could get.

She wouldn't think about it. Refused to, in fact. This was about math. And Jon. Math and Jon. ~~Jon and math.~~

He rang the doorbell three minutes after the agreed upon time. (Not that Sansa was counting.) Jon always rang the bell, no matter how many times the Starks explained to him he could just walk right in. Sansa heard the sound of footsteeps downstairs when someone - Arya, judging from the impatient pace - went to get the door, and then muffled conversation and laughter. Arya and Jon always got along so very well. 

It took another ten minutes before Jon's rhytmic steps could be heard going up the stairs. Sansa flipped open the math book that laid on the desk in front of her, an impulse telling her to look busy. He knocked two times, a warm feeling spreading through Sansa as she called out "Come in!"

He smiled at her as he entered, curls a little messy and his grin a little too big, and Sansa felt that Joffrey-induced worry fade as she returned the smile.

"Hey", he said, walking up to her desk and pulling  out the chair that had become his. "Sorry I'm late, I got held up by that sister of yours. Did you start without me?" He nodded towards the open math book. A blush colored Sansa's cheeks as she looked down on the page, that had nothing at all to do with what they were currently doing in math. The curse that came with red hair - her embarrassment was always public knowledge.

"No, I... ehrm, I waited for you." It sounded creepy. Sansa wanted to bite her tongue off.

"Oh, that's fine. What are we doing today?"

"Logarithms, aaand I am already suicidal." It wasn't really true - she was quite content, now - but Jon snorted at that, grabbing a pen from the stand on the desk and finding a clean page in the notebook, the familiarity of the motions only adding to Sansa's newfound calm.

"We'll figure it out. It's easy once you've cracked the code." His tone was reassuring. He was reassuring. Sansa was reassured.

"You say that about everything. And I never crack the code", she couldn't help but protest.

"Hey", he said, finally grabbing the math book and beginning the search for the right page. "Enough with the negativity, please. None of that in my classroom."

"Sure, sir." She stuck her tongue out like baby Rickon used to. He rolled his eyes at that but smiled a little.

"Here we go." Jon'd found the page. "Logarithms now, miss Stark."

"Why, mr Snow, I do believe you wish to torture me."

***

To both of their surprise, Jon was actually right -  it wasn't that difficult. After a few explanations from Jon and a miscalculation or two on Sansa's part, she began seeing that pattern Jon was going on about. She wanted words, not examples - when they discussed her solutions and talked about what had gone wrong she understood so much faster than when she tried to decode the digits directly. Jon was generous with praise, and although it felt rather insulting when he got all excited over her figuring out something Rickon could probably solve, Sansa knew he meant it. She had barely finished the thought that maybe everything would be alright, after all, when her phone vibrated.

Another text from Joffrey. Jon, respectful as always, looked away politely. Sansa turned the phone off.

"Am I keeping you from something?" Jon's tone was light, almost teasing, but the words made something break inside her. Against Sansa's will, her lower lip began to tremble. 

Oh god. Keep it together, she kept telling herself, he hasn't seen yet, keep it -

He looked up, and saw her distressed look - thank god she had managed to refrain from crying, but that was about as far as her self control could stretch, apparently - a look of terror on his face.

"Shit." He put a hand on her back, between her shoulder blades, and Sansa was sure she would start crying for real. "I didn't - are you alright?" She nodded, but didn't dare look him in the eyes. His hand made a little stroking motion on her back that spread a warm fuzzy feeling through her.

"You sure?" Why was he being so damned nice? She was so very close to telling him all about Joffrey and the stupid argument and the texts and the fear -

\- when the door flew open, causing Sansa to jump and Jon to draw his hand back as if she'd burned him.

"Mom told me to -"

Arya was standing in the doorway, cutting herself of mid-sentence, looking from Jon to Sansa to Jon again, head a little turned, as if she was trying to solve a riddle. Sansa felt her face turn crimson. Nobody moved. Finally, Arya smiled, almost knowingly, and looked at Jon with eyes glittering with mischief. Sansa dared a glance at Jon, whom to her surprise looked flustered. Jon glared at Arya, who's grin just became wider, but when she noticed Sansa looking at her, she became serious again.

"You've been doing math for two hours."

"Some of us try to pass a course or two a year, Arya." God, how long was it physically possible to blush? Maybe she should see a doctor. 'If your blushing lasts longer than three hours, contact a medical professional.' Arya's grin didn't help.

"Food's ready soon. Mom wanted me to ask if you would stay for dinner, Jon."

"If I may, then yes, thank you." Ever so polite. 

"I'll be _sure_ to tell her how much you would _love_ to stay for dinner", Arya replied, in a mockingly gushing tone. "It would be an absolute _honor_ , wouldn't it, Jon?"

"Don't be jealous of other people's manners, Arya. We'll be right down." Sansa was proud that she managed to keep her voice even.

"Eager to get rid of me, are you?" Arya winked. Sansa could have sworn Jon glared at Arya. Strange - he was never cross with Arya, not even when she gave him reason to be. Her sister left, anyhow, leaving Sansa alone with Jon in a weirdly charged silence. She opened her mouth to suggest they head downstairs at the exact same time as he began speaking as well - they both hesitated and then spoke at the same time again. And then they laughed. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" he went, when the laughter had faded. Too kind, those eyes - Sansa couldn't look into them for too long. She could  drown. 

"I'm fine, Jon."

"Promise?" The tone was teasing again, but he attentively awaited her reply.

"Promise." 

***

It was so painfully idyllic Sansa was near tears again. 

For once, all of the Stark kids were home for dinner - with Jon seated beside Bran, who was telling a complicated story about a video game that both Jon and Arya seemed completely engulfed by, and Margaery, who had snuck out from home to join them ("my dad can't cook for shit, you know, darling - I'm here as often as I get to be") -  the Stark kitchen was rather crowded, but in a cozy, snug way. 

Her mother had even made lemon cakes, for dessert - her own quiet way of saying she was glad Sansa was home again. Everyone seemed strangely harmonic, Robb looking more lovestruck than ever when little Rickon made Margaery laugh that bubbly laugh, and Arya keeping a civil conversation with Sansa for a good ten minutes, talking about Gendry and school and that new show they both liked. Jon caught Sansa's eyes once and with a small smile, he raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

She nodded instantly.

She truly was fine. More fine than in quite a while.

And though she was ashamed to admit it, it wasn't until Margaery and Jon had been sent home and Rickon put to bed and Sansa went up the stairs to her room and saw her switched-off phone lying on the desk, that she remembered Joffrey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter felt like kind of a mess lmao sorry about that, I want to get to the fun parts of the story and inspiration's been a little dry, eh. Thanks for reading!


	3. Tensions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaah I'm sorry about the late update, inspiration's been dry and this chapter feels like a hot pile of garbage, heh. Mild trigger warning - Joffrey's being a real ass in this, I got mad just writing it lmao

Joffrey didn’t pick her up the next morning.  
It had become a routine, however impractical - since Joffrey lived a lot closer to school than the Starks, and her siblings were going to the same place, it was unnecessary for Joffrey to drive out and pick her up, yet he had insisted on doing that these last two weeks, seemingly enjoying the two of them being seen coming to school together.  
But today, it seemed, he didn’t quite care to.

Sansa tried to suppress her worry at the fact while wedged in the back seat of Robb’s car beside Arya, Margaery in the front seat.  
“You alright?” Arya asked, looking at her sister weirdly. Sansa knew she looked like shit - had barely slept - but did everyone have to stare at her like she’d escaped from the zoo?  
“Yes, god, I’m fine! Stop asking me!” Sansa’s notoriously bad morning mood was acting up, not at all helped by the situation with Joffrey. He had stopped texting abruptly last night, and when she sent him a meant-to-be-conciliatory text as soon as she woke up from a restless half-sleep, Joffrey hadn’t replied.  
“You sure you’re okay, Sans?” Robb was joining in. Margaery, knowing the risks that came with teasing Sansa before 10 AM, stayed silent, but Sansa could feel Marg’s gaze upon her from the rear view mirror.  
“Never been better”, Sansa replied her brother through gritted teeth.  
“Really?” Arya kept going, in a mockingly gushing tone, as always indifferent to the hostile atmosphere. “Never been better? Is it because you’re riding with us, your _beloved family_ , instead of your serial killer boyfriend?” 

This was the latest of the Stark family inside jokes; after Bran having heard an allegedly ‘suspicious’ phone call, during which Joffrey had kept repeating ‘in the freezer, it’s in the freezer’, all of Sansa’s siblings had come to the very logical conclusion that Joffrey was a murderer. It didn’t seem to matter at all that he had been referring to an ice cream bucket his mom wanted. Joffrey was marked as a serial killer for life. Baby Rickon had even begun to ask every night as he was put to bed, giggling, for them to check if Joffrey was hiding under his bed.  
All of her siblings (and, though she pretended otherwise, their mother as well) thought it was hilarious.  
(Sansa didn’t.)

She didn’t even bother to answer Arya, instead checking her phone again. A new message. Sansa’s heart began beating faster.  
It wasn’t from Joffrey.

 _JON: morning, just wanted to check in and see if you r ok?_  
Sansa’s cheeks heated. Her unprompted emotional outburst the night before was embarrassing to think of in itself, but that wasn’t what made her blush - her embarrassment was owed to that strange feeling that had erupted between her and Jon the day before, an unfamiliar tension that had been interrupted by Arya bursting into her room. It had been nothing, of course.

(But it kind of felt like something.)

And now Jon was ‘checking in’ on her. Combined with Joffrey’s radio silence and the early hour, it made Sansa nervous. 

“Who are you talking too?” Arya inquired - she was in a particularly confrontational mood this morning. (Then again, Arya was always in a confrontational mood.) “You look weird. Is Joffrey sending you death threats?” She said it as a joke, but there was a gleam of seriousness in her eyes, and Sansa noticed Robb’s hands grabbing the wheel tighter than usual. Margaery turned around to look at her.

“I’m great, you assholes.” She began typing a reply.

_SANSA: thanks, but I’m fine!_

She stared at the text for a while after sending it. The exclamation point seemed a bit hysterical, perhaps. But Jon seemed to get the message, literally. He replied with just an emoji in a matter of minutes, and then he left her be. Arya unknowingly followed his example, and the rest of the journey was quiet.

Sansa didn’t see Joffrey for the entire school day - her morning history class went by in a blur, her desk mate Jeyne asking her what was wrong at least twice. Joff was nowhere to be seen during lunch, and Sansa almost began suspecting he was sick or skipping class, but when she asked Myrcella Baratheon during PE she said her brother was in school, though she had a funny look on her face.

“Did you guys … I mean, are you fighting?” Myrcella spoke softly. Sansa wondered, not for the first time that day, exactly what about her appearance made people speak softly.  
“No, we … I don’t know, actually.” Sansa always liked Myrcella, but she didn’t want to trouble her. She bit her lip, hesitant. “Why, did he say anything?”  
“Oh, you know Joffrey, he’s not one to talk about his feelings …” Sansa made a sound that was part laughter, part grunt, part sigh. Myrcella paused, looking Sansa over again. “But he… he was really pissed last night, I could tell.” They exchanged a look of mutual concern. Both of them knew just how angry Joffrey could get.  
“I’ll talk to him”, Sansa said, willing her tone to be cheerful. “I’m sure it will be fine.” Myrcella nodded, but still looked worried for her sake. Sansa was torn between being moved by her care and frightened of the inevitable confrontation with Joffrey. The longer he kept away, the angrier he was … and he hadn’t so much as looked at her the entire day.

***

“Joff?”

In the end, she had waited outside his classroom, feeling quite like a stalker. Joffrey’s math class ended late - at first Robb had insisted on waiting with her, but Sansa had quickly rejected that idea, figuring Robb would only fuel the fire. Joffrey and him was on barely-polite speaking terms at best, and if Joffrey was as angry as Sansa feared he was … Margaery had offered to stay, too, hiding her worry better than Robb but still looking tense. Sansa had shook her head at that too. So they had left her behind. Sansa had waited alone, the minutes until Joffrey’s lesson ended going by both torturously slow and too fast at the same time.

And the doors had opened, Joffrey’s bright blonde hair easily spotted in the crowd. He didn’t turn as she called his name. Sansa, thinking he hadn’t heard her, tried again. Heads began to turn. His didn’t.

She began walking through the eager-to-leave-crowd, half-running to catch up with Joffrey. Reaching him, she put a hand on his arm. He turned then, fast enough to startle her, and when he pulled his hand back and finally looked into her eyes, Sansa realised she had been wrong. He wasn’t as angry as she had feared. It was far, far worse.

“What the fuck do you want?” She was dumbstruck by his tone, taking a step back in surprise. He followed her with a step towards her, and Sansa backed away again. “You think it’s time to start talking again now, huh?” He was hissing, literally hissing the words. People began to take long detours around them in the corridor, which was beginning to empty as students left. She would be all alone with Joffrey soon. Sansa felt as though she might be dreaming. An instinct embedded deep within whispered for her to run, to run like hell, but she remained paralyzed. Absently, she wondered where the math teacher had gone off to. _Help me. Help me, please. I don’t know what to do._

Joffrey looked her in the eyes. “Answer, then! What the fuck do you want?” Another step towards her - one more, and he would be able to physically feel how fast her heart was beating ...

“Sansa?” 

Knee-wobbling relief pulsed through her at the familiar voice from behind her. She turned to see Jon, standing beside the math teacher, mrs Mordane. (Briefly, Sansa reflected it seemed her and Jon’s meetings were always math-related in one way or another. She had forgotten he took the same class as Joffrey.) Joffrey took a step away from her, and Sansa let out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding.

“Miss Stark? Mr Baratheon? What is going on here?” Mrs Mordane had a shrill voice, but it calmed Sansa nevertheless. She looked down at the floor, refusing to meet Jon’s eyes.  
“Nothing”, Joffrey muttered. Mrs Mordane raised her eyebrows and looked at Sansa. She could feel Joffrey’s eyes drilling into her neck, and Jon desperately seeking eye contact. The words she meant to say came out a tangled mess.  
“It … we were just having a little dispute, mrs Mordane, I’m sorry.”  
“Do I need to call home to both of your parents?”  
“No, mrs Mordane. I’m so sorry.” She didn’t really know what she was apologizing for. Joffrey should be the one apologizing. Mrs Mordane looked from Joffrey, to her, back to Joffrey again.  
“Very well then. No more disputes, if I may. Get home with you, now. School’s out. Jon, we can discuss that more later, but I doubt there will be an issue.” With that, she left them, her shoes clicking against the corridor floor. Irresponsible of her, Sansa thought, to leave them all to their own devices. Then again, mrs Mordane had a reputation for being a little bit oblivious.  
Jon stayed behind, though, and for that she was eternally grateful. Finally, she met his gaze, and saw concern in his eyes. When his expression shifted to one of anger, though, Sansa at first was taken aback, but then she realised he wasn’t looking at her.

“Baratheon”, he greeted Joffrey, words soaking with contempt.  
“Snow”, Joffrey grunted. Jon glared at him. Sansa didn’t dare risk a glance over her shoulder. She had seen Joffrey angry before, but never quite like this; fear was still pulsing through her, her body on edge, ready to run.  
To her relief, after Jon having stared him down, she heard Joffrey begin walking away from them. Still, she didn’t dare move until the sound of his footsteps had died out completely.

Arya’s frequent serial killer jokes popped into Sansa’s head, and although she knew it to be ridiculous, she did feel as if though she had just escaped a murderer.

***

Jon drove her home, without asking many questions. He kept quiet himself, but Sansa could tell he was angry. (Strange - when had that happened? Since when could she tell every mood of Jon’s just by looking at him?) It felt good, his anger - he wasn’t angry at her, but for her. She relished the silence in the car, attempting to gather her thoughts. (It didn’t go very well.)

He stopped on the Stark driveway and hesitated, seemingly weighing his words. Sansa bit her lip. She should say something, shouldn’t she? They ended up starting to talk at the exact same time, before pausing, and then beginning again at the same time. Both of them stopped. Sansa smiled a bit, the last lingering fear after the encounter with Joffrey finally fading. 

“You go”, Jon said politely, gesturing for her to continue speaking.

“I …” Suddenly she couldn’t find the words. “I’m sorry about that…”

“Sansa.” His voice was strained, sounding almost tortured. “Please, don’t apologize.”

“But I _am_ sorry”, she almost whispered. “I’m sorry you had to drive me home, and that I made you worry, and … I don’t know what’s going on with Joffrey, I really don’t.” Once she had started talking, she couldn’t stop, staring through the windshield at the house instead of looking him in the eyes. She felt she owed him an explanation of sorts. “I’m not even sure what he’s mad about, to be honest.” She let out a shaky laugh. 

“Is that strange? He’s angry a lot, but now … I just don’t know what happened. He lost it, and I … I …” To her horror, a tear ran down her cheek. She still refused to look at Jon, but she could almost feel the shock radiating from him. Sansa rarely cried in front of people - had come close, during that last study session, but other than that, she doubted Jon had ever seen her like this, not even when they were kids.

She turned her head away from him. A grubbing sound came from the driver’s seat, and then Jon handed her a box of paper tissues. Sansa shyly took one and let out a sob-like laughter. Of course Jon would keep tissues in his car.  
“Sansa”, Jon said again. His voice was hoarse now, but soothing. Still, she didn’t look at him. “It wasn’t your fault. Whatever that was, it wasn’t on you. Please tell me you know that.”

“I know that.”

“Good.”

And then he repeated the gesture from the study session, carefully placing a hand on her back, between her shoulder blades, gently stroking. Sansa sucked in a breath. 

Suddenly the silence in the car shifted, became loaded again - not with adrenalin this time, but with possibility. 

Because, something about this touch made Sansa feel something warm and tingling, despite the situation and all that had happened.

(And she was pretty certain Jon felt it too.)

She looked up at him.

Their eyes met for a small eternity - then Jon, as if Arya once more had interrupted them, hastily drew his hand back, muttering an apology. Sansa felt a little bit dizzy. Too much, she was feeling too much. This day was overwhelming her. 

“I better get inside. Robb and Marg are probably waiting.” She opened the car door, but hesitated before exiting. “Do you … You want to come in?” Jon, still looking flustered, shook his head.  
“No, thanks. I promised mom I’d be home early.” Sansa opened her mouth to once more apologize for stalling him, but he must have sensed what she was about to say, because he rolled his eyes at her with a half-smile. "It's fine."  
“Bye, then.” She got out of the car and was just about to shut the door when Jon went,  
“Sansa?” again.  
“Yeah?”  
“You know I’d murder Joffrey for you if you wanted?”  
“Aw, Jon, you’d go after a serial killer for me?” Jon smiled at the reference. He had been consecrated in Stark family jokes since childhood.  
“Yes. Yes, I would.”  
“Bye, Jon.”  
“Bye, Sansa. Take care.”  
“Say hi to your mom.”  
“I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think!


	4. Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joffrey "Potential Serial Killer" Baratheon steps over the line again - and faces the consequences. *dramatic drum roll*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated this in forever, hehe - this chapter is also short + complete 100% horseshit since I've written it now during the middle of the night as I couldn't sleep, but! It's an update nevertheless lmao, bear with me
> 
> Might edit later in the cold light of day
> 
> Again, trigger warning in this chapter: referenced verbal abuse

The texts began anew that night, worse than before.

Sansa was alone in her room when the first message arrived, and she nearly dropped the phone when she read the first line.

Joffrey used language and called her things that made her feel as though she had been frozen to ice - shellshocked, she couldn't put the phone away - all she did was stare and stare at the screen while message after message, one ruder than the other, came in, each new one making her text signal go off, creating a hysterical, threatening melody.

It was Joffrey's mentioning of Jon's name (in combination with a new tirade of insults hurled at Sansa) that finally broke her free from her trance. She turned the phone screen off, got up from the chair and paced around the room one, two, three times, before heading towards the door.

Margaery was there, thankfully. (For once, Sansa was grateful for Robb's sneaky habit of inviting Margaery over and then not telling Sansa about it in order to get to be alone with Marg an hour or two.) Margaery would know what to do. She always did.

"Uhm, Marg?" Sansa's friend was cuddled up with Robb on the couch, Bran sitting in the armchair looking as if he regretted his decision to watch a movie with a still-newly-infatuated teenage couple. Meera wasn't around, a fact Sansa appreciated - there was less of an audience to her distress, then. Margaery looked up at Sansa's calling of her name, immediately alert when she saw the expression on Sansa's face.

"What's the matter, darling?" Sansa shook her head. Not here. Her brothers were beginning to catch on to the atmosphere.

"You okay, Sans?" Robb asked. That seemed to be her family's go-to-question when speaking to Sansa, these days. When had that happened? (She knew when: the exact moment she'd begun dating Joffrey.)

"I … just need to talk to Margaery." Marg had already gotten up from the couch, coming towards Sansa looking so concerned Sansa was hit with a wave of guilt. How long had she'd been making everyone so worried about her?

They went into the kitchen, Margaery patiently waiting for her to begin speaking, yet Sansa hesitated, unsure of how to begin. Her phone vibrated in her pocket (she had turned the sound off, finally) - as if to urge her on.

In the end, she just handed Margaery the phone, unable to figure out a way to phrase what she wanted to say. Margaery only read a few words before her eyes turned dark in that way Sansa knew meant death.

Oh, Joffrey was in trouble.

 

* * *

They all treated her like she was dying.

It had been three days, and the dust was beginning to settle. Sansa felt as though she'd been through a battle - and what a fight it had been.

After reading the texts, Margaery, Sansa's saviour, had called Loras and learnt how to get in contact with Renly, who had gone to the Baratheon-Lannister household in person that very same night and spoken about the texts to mr and mrs Baratheon (on Margaery's demand). The Baratheons, as it turned out later, had been … rather upset at the accusations laid at Joffrey's feet - aspecially mrs Baratheon. 

But when Sansa's mother - whom Margaery had called right after phoning Loras - threatened to take legal action (Sansa didn't know if they could even do that, but she wasn't about to raise any objections), the tone had changed, and Robert Baratheon himself had showed up at the doorstep of the Starks the next day, wanting to "settle the matter."

And the matter had been settled, Joffrey sending a stiff apology via text that was so clearly not worded by Joffrey himself it almost made Sansa laugh. (But only almost.)

And now they all treated her like she was dying.

Her mother had given her leave to be home from school for a few days. No one was allowed to tell a 'Joffrey-is-a-serial-killer'-joke anymore - even baby Rickon had stopped. Her siblings were tip-toeing around her, carefully watching her every step as if she'd suddenly break down anytime, anywhere - Sansa went from being moved by their concern to annoyed at their unsubtle way of trying to determine her mental stability. She felt … strangely empty. A little silly, having had to incorporate her mother in her first-ever breakup with a boyfriend, though it was definitely for the best. She felt isolated, too, of course, though Margaery did her best to change that, coming over every night. Some school friends came and visited Sansa, too, again as if she was on her deathbed and this was the last chance to see her.

There was, however, one person who had not come, and to her surprise, Sansa found it was the person she would most want to see.

Jon had sent a vague, but sweet text that was so _him_ it made Sansa smile for the first time in a while, the day after the corridor-and-subsequent-texting incident, but several days passed - among them a thursday, which usually was their math-studying day - without him visiting. Not that he usually came to the Stark house just to see Sansa, not when they weren't studying. ~~But, strangely, Sansa caught herself several times wishing that he would.~~

Oh, well, Sansa thought, fighting her own irrational disappointment when friday came and went and he officially hadn't come over for the entire school week (not even to see Robb or Arya, damn it!), she'd see him at school.

~~Why wasn't that enough, all of a sudden?~~


	5. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa decides to find out why Jon hasn't visited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akosdjajs I keep adding chapters to this lmao but! I think I'll manage on 6 now... thanks, as always, for reading on :)

On Saturday, Sansa finally gave up.  
She did it in the kitchen, when Arya was preparing a sandwich and Robb sat beside her by the table. Now or never, Sansa supposed.

“Uhm … So …” This was bound to be awkward, and to spur endless teasing. But Sansa simply had to know. She tried to keep her tone casual as she asked, “I haven’t seen Jon around in a while, what’s up with that?”

To Sansa’s surprise, Robb froze mid-sandwich-bite, and Arya nearly dropped the cheese she was taking out of the fridge.

“What the … what’s going on?”  
“Nothing exciting”, Arya muttered. Robb cleared his throat. Sansa looked from one of them to the other, her eyes narrowing.  
“Alright, fine! Jon has just been grounded this week, that’s all”, Robb finally yielded, cracking under the pressure.

“ _Jon?_ Grounded?” Jon was one of the most wellbehaved people Sansa knew, and besides, his mom wasn’t that prone to severe punishments. As far as Sansa knew, this would be the first time Jon was grounded. “But … why?”  
Robb and Arya exchanged a look. It was going to drive Sansa mad, this secrecy.

“Uhm, Jon, kind of, got into a fight”, Robb answered reluctantly. “Oh, he’s fine - don’t look at me like that! - but, yeah, he got suspended and everything, so his mom grounded him.” 

__“Jon? In a fight?” Sansa repeated, stupified. She couldn’t in a million years have imagined reserved, polite Jon in a fight. “With who?”_ _

Robb and Arya looked at eachother again. Sansa was ready to slaughter them.  
“With Joffrey”, Arya at last admitted, putting bread in the toaster. Sansa felt dizzy.  
“With Joffrey? _Why?_ ” Sansa asked again, feeling like a broken record. 

"Oh, Jon didn’t start it”, Arya said, always defensive of Jon. “I heard Joffrey was talking a lot of shit again, and Jon just got fed up with it and told him to keep his mouth shut” - Arya ate a piece of cheese, pausing only briefly to chew before continuing. “- and that obviously set Joffrey off, so he threw the first punch and Jon hit back. But Jon refused to say what Joffrey had been saying, you know, to get him that angry.” 

__Oh god. Sansa could only imagine._ _

"We weren't there, you know", Robb shot in softly. "To hear what he said."  
"If you had, _you_ probably would have been the ones suspended", Sansa commented dryly, still processing.  
Robb looked at Arya, disbelief written across his features.  
"Was that … did she just -?"  
"I think she did", Arya nodded, grinning. 

___"She told a joke again! Our Sansa!" Robb put a hand on his chest and pretended to grow teary-eyed._  
"She's cured!" Arya shouted dramatically, doing a twirl so clumsy she almost slammed her body into the kitchen counter.  
Sansa rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but smile. Her stupid, stupid family. 

__She loved the idiots._ _

__* * *_ _

Sunday afternoon - Sansa had been summoning courage for hours.  
"Robb?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Uhm … I was just thinking … You don't happen to know when Jon stops being grounded, do you?"  
"Tomorrow, I think. Lyanna isn't that strict, you know. Why?" Robb asked. 

"Oh, no reason. I'm just … really behind in math class, that's all."  
"Yeah", Robb said with a smirk, a combination of amusement and disgust on his face, "I'm sure your interest is strictly math-related." 

Sansa didn't reply, suddenly very, very busy with the book she was reading. 

__* * *_ _

__She was home alone again - her mother wasn't going to let her skip school for all eternity, but the thought of having to meet Joffrey in the corridors made Sansa feel physically ill, so she'd been given solace for another day or two._ _

__Sansa was growing restless, wandering around the house without really finding anything entertaining enough to do. Perhaps she should study, but the prospect wasn't tempting. She found herself looking out the windows often, as if hoping to find the familiar sight of Jon's car pulling into the driveway._ _

__Sansa shook her head. She was being ridiculous._ _

__* * *_ _

__When the doorbell rang in the early afternoon, Sansa was at first sure she had imagined it. It wasn't until the second ring that she jumped to her feet, her heart beating faster. She scolded herself in her head - it was stupid to get her hopes up.  
But when she opened the door and Jon - Jon! It was Jon! - was standing on the threshold, Sansa couldn't help but smile - a smile that quickly faded when she took a closer look at his face._ _

__"Oh my god, Jon", was the first thing she said.  
"I didn't think you'd notice", he joked, grinning sheepishly. _ _

__The black-eye was like something out of an action movie - shifting in blue and reddish tones, swollen, horrifying. It had already begun to fade - Sansa didn't even want to think about what it must have looked like when it was newly acquired._ _

___"Are you alright?" she asked, wide-eyed. (She had a bizarre urge to touch his eye - wasn't that a little fucked up?_ ~~Then again she had a bizarre urge to touch him a lot.~~ )  
"I'm fine, Sansa. What about you?" Nothing but genuine concern on his face. "I'm sorry I didn't come earlier - I wanted to, I just …"  
"You were grounded. I heard." She blushed, then. She hadn't so much 'heard' as 'forcefully dragged it out of Robb'. But Jon definitely did not need to know that. "I'm fine, Jon." She'd said that a lot to him, lately - this time, it was a lot closer to the truth. 

__"I'm glad. That's good." Jon looked down at his feet then. ~~Almost as if he, too, was a little nervous.~~  
"So…" he continued, weighing from one foot to the other. "Could I come in?"_ _


	6. Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon has something to tell Sansa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Askdbf I think it's done haha they are incredible dorks in this and this is mindless fluff but voíla!

“Uhm … do you want anything?” Sansa asked, biting her lip. 

Jon was sitting at the Stark kitchen table, looking just as awkward as she was feeling as she leaned on the kitchen counter. Jon wasn’t his usual self - there was lots of nervous fidgeting. His black eye also, obviously, made him look different, rougher. Sansa found it a little distracting.  ~~But, to her embarrassment, not entirely unappealing.~~

“No, I’m fine”, he answered her question. 

And then they were quiet.

“So … “ Sansa tried, when the silence became unbearable. “How’s school been?” God, she sounded like Uncle Edmure at a family gathering. 

“Fine, thanks”, Jon replied politely. “I missed a couple of days last week …”

“Oh, right!” Sansa said, color rising on her cheeks. How could she have forgotten? “The suspension.”

“Yeah. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that …” Jon looked down at his hands on the table. Normally Sansa was the one most flustered during their conversations - strangely, she felt rather emboldened by his nervousness. “I am sorry if I made things worse … or weird, or  awkward, it’s just that …” 

He cut himself off, still not looking her in the eyes.

“It’s just that what?” Sansa urged, her heart pounding, as if it could sense something significant was about to happen. 

“I - oh, I don’t know”, he went, frustrated,  _still_ not making eye contact, his hands nervously moving on the table. “I - Sansa, I should probably tell you that I - ”

“You what, Jon?”, Sansa said, unsure if she should be annoyed or amused.

“I -” And then finally, he looked up at her, meeting her gaze at last. “Sansa, I think I might be a little bit in love with you.”

…

…

… !?

“Wh- I - y-”  _Those are not words. Start over._  “What are you -”

“I’m sorry”, he said for some reason. His eyes left hers and traveled back to his hands, his voice low as he continued. “I just wanted you to know. If, uhm, Joffrey has me assassinated or something.” He froze, seeming to realise what he just said.

“Shit”, he blurted out, “I shouldn’t joke like that, should I? I’m sorry, San. This is a mess, isn’t it?” He ran a hand through his hair, eyes darting towards the kitchen door as if he was debating whether or not to make a run for it. 

“Since when?” Sansa finally managed to ask. “Since when are you a little … “ - she was blushing too much to even say the words, instead making a strange hand gesture that she immediately regretted - “with me?”

“I - I don’t know!” He made a vague gesture. “I didn’t … I mean … since we started studying together?”

“What? Jon, that’s like ten months ago!”

“Sorry! You were just so … I don’t know. You know never really used to talk before that, and then we did, and you were so funny, and smart, and really really bad at math …”

“Thanks.” She pressed her lips together to keep a goofy smile from spreading. He still wasn’t looking at her.  ~~Sansa wished he would now.~~

"Jon." Her voice quivered a little, but it was strange - she didn't feel nervous at all anymore. Carefully, slowly, almost shaking, like a newborn foal learning to walk, she took a tiny step forward. Towards the table.

Towards Jon. 

Towards something else, something new, something that had her feeling strangely weightless.

He got up when she approached, nearly knocking over the chair, eyes still refusing to meet hers, and then she stepped forward and he did too and it was a little bit rushed and awkward but suddenly he was there, so _close_ , could he hear her heart beating? -

\- and _then_ he looked at her.

Looked at her like no one had before.

* * *

Oh, so _this_ was how it was supposed to feel.

***

A WEEK LATER

"Marg?" Sansa said. They were alone in the Stark kitchen again, having tea, the house quiet for once - Arya was at the movies with Gendry, Bran was at the Reeds', Rickon and their mom gone on a visit to their grandfather. Robb would be home any minute now, but Sansa _had_ to tell Margaery now, had to, otherwise she would burst.

"What?" Margaery urged, and Sansa knew she could tell something was going on. She always could.

"Marg, I think I might be a little bit in love." She intentionally used the same phrase Jon had, when he'd sat in this very chair a week back and ...

(God, she was grinning, wasn't she?)

To Sansa's surprise, Margaery didn't seem at all startled at the statement, simply regarding Sansa with a smile tugging at her lips.

"I know", Marg finally said, laughing at the flabbergasted face Sansa was making. "With Jon, right?"

It took Sansa a few seconds to regain her ability to speak.

"How did you -" She cut herself off, Margaery looking just as frustrated as Sansa felt when they heard Robb's keys in the door, followed by a "hello?" that was way too loud.

He had a shitty sense of timing, her brother, sometimes.

"Don't tell Robb", was all Sansa had time to say before the man himself stepped into the kitchen.

"Don't tell Robb what?" her brother said, eyes wide, hair messy, a goofy half-smile playing on his lips like always when he looked at Margaery, then back at Sansa.

A grin was all the reply he got as Sansa walked past him out of the kitchen, turning in the doorway to exhaduratedly wink at Margaery.

"Don't tell Robb _what_?" Robb asked again, but Sansa was already halfway up the stairs, her grin lasting all the way to her room.

***

It had been two weeks and Sansa knew it was time to tell her siblings. 

She made Margaery be there as she made the announcement, blushing the whole time, not daring to make eye contact. When she looked up, her siblings seemed just as unsurprised as Margaery had.

"You all already knew, didn't you?" Sansa said in a monotone voice. (God, was _she_ the only one who had been surprised by this whole Jon and Sansa business?) 

"Rickon saw you kissing him goodbye in the hallway last week", Robb said with an unreadable facial expression.

"And he's been coming over to see you like everyday, lately", Bran shot in. "We didn't really believe you were studying that much."

"Yeah, we knew you were bad at math, but not _that_ bad", Arya said.

***

"Sansa", Jon said, pulling back from the kiss and moving his chair to put some distance between them. "We really, really should be doing math."

"Right. Math." 

Sansa found she was ... a little bit unfocused on math at the moment. 

She was a bit lightheaded. Jon seemed to be too. 

They tried, though. With math. They really did. Sansa picked up her pen and Jon found the right page and it was all going very well until their hands ~~accidentally~~ brushed against eachother as Jon wanted to show her something on the page and the sensation was apparently enough to set her off and Jon made a content sound - some sort of sigh - that was a little bit too adorable for Sansa to ignore and -

Well.

They didn't get much math done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for sticking with this story! really hope you enjoyed it, heh

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!


End file.
